Mind That Kitten!
by WandererInTime
Summary: The Doctor and Charlie are tasked with tracking and rescuing the most important cat in the universe – which isn't as easy as it sounds, especially when that cat has the ability to travel through time. (Twelfth Doctor Adventures 7).
1. Prince of Purr-sia

**Author's Notes**

 ** _Mind That Kitten!_ Episode 7 in the Twelfth Doctor Adventures, featuring the Doctor and Charlie Drake.**

 **(I really wasn't taking anything too seriously when I was writing this. After all, it's entirely based on a throwaway line from one of the Brilliant Books. Also, sorry about some of the chapter titles.)**

* * *

 _ **The story so far…**_

Travelling through time and space, Charlie Drake is having the time of his life. Adventures with the Doctor are the perfect escape – he can scarcely believe it's all real. Alien worlds and Alan Turing? Giant spiders and living computers?

* * *

 _Egypt, 48 B.C._

"Down there!" yelled Charlie, ploughing straight into a polished marble column. He picked himself up, and massaged his bruised collarbone.

"Ow," he muttered retrospectively.

The Doctor sped past him, his arms flailing like a flightless bird, upsetting a large golden urn as he dashed round a corner.

"Come on!" the Doctor called. "We can't let it get away! Millions of lives depend upon it."

"No big," wheezed Charlie as sarcastically as he could manage under the current circumstances. He stumbled after the Doctor, down the lavishly adorned corridor.

They glimpsed a long, fluffy tail sweep the floor as it disappeared behind a large statue of a jackal-headed deity.

The Doctor skidded to a halt, leaving black rubber marks on the stone floor with a sharp squeak. He glanced at Charlie in confusion.

Charlie gestured towards the statue.

"It went behind there. I'm sure of it."

They edged closer to the figure, upholding great caution. Shifting aside a vase encrusted with precious stones, the Doctor grunted. There was nothing there.

He shook his head. "It's imperative that we find it."

"We're in Ancient Egypt! We're looking for a cat!" hissed Charlie. "How will we know if we've even found the right one?"

They both sensed a movement, and turned around. A purple curtain, gilded with an intricate pattern, swayed from side to side. Shrinking underneath it, the whiskered nose of a fluffy tabby kitten. Its wide, terrified eyes observed the Doctor and Charlie slowly approaching it.

"You make a good point," the Doctor conceded. "But I'm sure this is the one. I recognise the markings."

The Doctor grinned at it, and crouched down, so as not to appear intimidating. He offered his hand.

"And you recognise us, don't you, sweetie?" he cooed. "Come on, don't be frightened. It's alright."

The kitten backed away, and darted behind the curtain.

The Doctor looked at Charlie in mystification.

"You scared it off," Charlie moaned.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, demanding an explanation.

"It's probably your eyebrows."

The aforementioned facial features dropped into a scowl.

"What?" Charlie challenged him, as he threw the curtain aside, and stepped through the doorway.

The Doctor raised his hand in alarm – but he was too late. "Ah! Don't go through there!"

He closed his eyes in apprehension, as if expecting to be slapped.

Charlie stopped. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Six pairs of eyes turned aggressively towards him. He raised an index finger in protest, but withdrew it again.

Ten of the eyes belonged to some rather burly, thuggish guards, armed with swords. The other eyes glowered at him, but they sparkled like emeralds; they were quite pretty, really.

They belonged to a very opulently dressed woman, reclined on what Charlie would describe as a lounger. A diadem, in the shape of an asp, rested atop her lengthy, braided black hair.

The woman's nostrils flared. Her dark skin was flushed, in infuriation. She was clearly a person of great importance, and also happened to be rather cross.

He wondered for a second what they must think of his appearance: an English teenager, dressed in clothes that wouldn't be fashionable for another two thousand and fifty years.

"How _dare_ you enter here!" the woman cried. "This is my private chamber, and I am waitin' on a visitor."

Charlie was taken aback by her rather streetwise accent; not the sort of tone he'd expected from an Ancient Egyptian lady.

"I-"

" _You_ don't have permission to speak!" she snapped. The Doctor ducked sheepishly through the doorway, and the woman's eyes narrowed.

"Your highness," the Doctor bowed slightly, extracting a thick roll of paper from his jacket pocket, and handing it to one of the guards. It was unravelled, and presented to the woman.

She looked over the yellowing page. But there was nothing written on it – it was blank.

"It's psychic papyrus," the Doctor whispered to Charlie. "It says we're envoys of the great god Set."

Charlie looked nervously at the woman, who was reading these apparent words with suspicion.

"Are you sure she'll believe that?"

"Don't worry, Cleo and I go way back. She's totally infatuated with me. This'll be a piece of cake."

"Cleo?" exclaimed Charlie. "As in 'Cleopatra'? _Queen Cleopatra?_ Of Egypt?" he stared at her in incredulity.

"That's right. Cleopatra the seventh, last ruler of the Macedonian dynasty."

"I studied her in school," Charlie continued, star-struck.

"Yes, well, try not to do that now, she might take offence."

"We were studying Ancient Egypt," Charlie griped.

Now that he came to think of it, Cleopatra looked exactly as Charlie expected her to – just like the illustrations in that old school history textbook.

"You know she's not actually Egyptian," the Doctor informed him earnestly, "She's from a family of Greek rulers. It's rather an interesting story how I…"

The Doctor stopped talking. Cleopatra's eyes flickered from the scroll to the Doctor. She rose, and sauntered over to him, offering him a sweet, but sarcastic smile, and slapped him across the cheek.

"Ouch!" the Doctor reeled back in surprise.

"Did that… did that just happen?" Charlie uttered, staring vacantly at the scene unfolding around him. It was so unreal.

"Doctor," Cleopatra spoke acerbically. "Time Lord of Gallifrey. I see you have not returned with your _lady friend_."

"I think you've made a mistake…" the Doctor protested.

"Shut it!" she snapped. "By what devilish sorcery I don't know, but you have changed your face yet again. However, I still know who you are!"

The Doctor wrung his hands agitatedly.

"It wouldn't be too much to ask for a favour, would it? You see, there's this cat…"

"I ain't got time for this! I still remember the last time you humiliated me! Maybe you should think twice before bundling the Queen of Egypt into a carpet roll!"

Charlie watched the Queen unleash her fury on the Doctor with some amusement. In fact, he had to restrain himself from bursting out laughing.

"She didn't mean anything by it…" the Doctor's appeal fell on uncaring ears.

"Lock him up," she ordered.

"Ah…" breathed the Doctor.

Charlie watched in confusion, unable to do anything as the Doctor was escorted from the room by one of the guards. Cleopatra, on the other hand, simply turned her nose up.

Charlie was left standing awkwardly in Queen Cleopatra's presence. He wondered what was going to happen to them both. He had a feeling that it wouldn't be good.

The Queen turned to him, and Charlie offered her a small smile. She regarded the gesture for an uncomfortably long time, but eventually returned a warm smile.

"Are you his consort?" she asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Charlie mumbled anxiously.

"Are you his associate?" she repeated. Charlie felt a small tingle in his brain. He realised that Cleopatra had actually said the same word, but he had understood it differently. Probably something to do with the TARDIS translation circuits. Which might also explain her strange accent.

"Er, yeah, kind of."

She nodded. "I hope you have not fallen afoul because of him."

"I shouldn't think so." Charlie answered honestly. "We're actually trying to save the universe at the moment."

Cleopatra narrowed her eyes.

"I think that's highly unlikely."

"I understand you have a… history with the Doctor?" ventured Charlie.

"Yes," Cleopatra confirmed, "I found him very charming the first time I met him. However, I quickly saw through his façade. I found him to be very deceitful…" She frowned. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Charlie."

"You know who I am?" she asked, although not in a way which suggested vanity.

"Oh yes! Queen Cleopatra, surely greatest queen of all time," Charlie professed. "Except for, maybe… the band," he added awkwardly. "Freddie Mercury. Which isn't to say…"

"But you are European, yes?"

Charlie nodded.

"Where in Europe are you from? I can't quite place your accent. Not Italy?"

"No, England. Britain – Great Britain."

"I see. But you're fluent in Greek?"

"I am?" Charlie faltered for a moment, recalling the translation circuits once more. "Yes, I am…"

Cleopatra scrutinised the expression on Charlie's face. He was attempting to remain as courteous as possible, despite how nervous he was in the presence of such a famous figure.

"You are… quite attractive," she smiled playfully.

"Am I?" Charlie blurted, accidentally making eye contact with one of the guards. He shrugged.

Cleopatra smiled radiantly.

"Has no-one told you that before?"

Charlie was too surprised to speak. _The_ Queen Cleopatra, revered throughout history for her beauty, was calling him – Charlie – attractive?

"Um…" Charlie muttered, his lip curling in unease. "…Someone did. Uh…"

Cleopatra noted Charlie's expression of discomfort, and gestured towards her lounger.

Charlie shot a nervous glance in the direction of the remaining guards, but took a seat as indicated. Cleopatra sat beside him – alarmingly close. So close, that Charlie felt the need to sidle away from her.

"Oh, come on Charlie, there's no need to be shy," Cleopatra simpered. "Tell me, what's up?"

"What's up?" Charlie repeated uncertainly.

"Yeah, what's up? It doesn't take a genius to see there's something buggin' you."

Charlie stared into Cleopatra's perceptive green eyes. There was something about her which didn't quite add up. She seemed way too… laid back?

But she was right: there was something eating away at him. And quite frankly, he was sick of people asking him about it.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Charlie muttered quickly.

Cleopatra shrugged. "Suit yourself." She sighed dramatically. "Just because I'm the Queen, don't mean I ain't gonna understand your problems."

"Well, no, I wasn't suggesting that…" Charlie added hurriedly.

"No, no, it's cool," Cleopatra insisted.

Charlie raised his eyebrow. "Okay…?"

Cleopatra ran her finger down the bridge of his nose, and Charlie flushed with embarrassment.

The Queen leant in close, and muttered, with some remorse:

"Well, it has been a pleasure speaking with you. However, you _are_ an associate of the Doctor, so I'm afraid I will have to have you executed. I'm sorry about that."

Charlie frowned, his chest tightening. "But…"

"It's the rules."

Charlie's face fell, as the guards advanced towards him.


	2. Cell Division

"What did she call them?" the Doctor asked, failing to contain a smirk.

" _Snappy_ and _Snuggles!_ " Charlie whined, struggling to come to terms with their situation.

Charlie had been roughly shoved in a cell adjacent to the Doctor's, deep in the dungeons of Cleopatra's palace. Within a few hours, they would be executed.

However, Charlie was pretty confident that the Doctor would find a way for them to escape, despite their incarceration in locked and guarded iron cages.

There were a few other cells in the damp, decaying dungeon. The only other cellmate was a rotting skeleton, which seemed a little too clichéd for Charlie to take seriously.

"She named her crocodiles _Snappy_ and _Snuggles?_ " the Doctor guffawed. "She's crazier than I thought."

"Doctor!" snapped Charlie. "We're going to be executed in oh, a couple hours! Thrown to the crocodiles!"

The Doctor shook his head. "Sorry, it's been"- the Doctor burst out laughing again -"It's been years since I had a good chuckle."

The Doctor finished laughing, and looked over in concern at Charlie, who was tugging fretfully at his hair. He seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack.

The Doctor, however, remained pretty calm. There had been a realisation, in the early days, that being locked up, alone in a cell, wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him.

"How are we gonna get out?" groaned Charlie, slumping into a sodden pile of straw. "You left the sonic screwdriver in the TARDIS."

"I know. Our feline friend didn't seem to like the noise it made."

"Yeah, I guess," Charlie mumbled, scraping at the floor with a stick.

"Don't worry, I used to do this a lot when I was younger," the Doctor added. "Never stopped me then. There's always another way."

He frowned. His reassuring words didn't seem to be having any effect on Charlie. He was still hunched up in the corner of the cell, looking increasingly worried.

"Why does this always happen?" Charlie groaned.

"Why does what happen?"

"Well," began Charlie. "We're always getting locked up, or chased, or… or shot at. We're always in danger."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, unsure what point Charlie was making. "What about it?"

"It's like…" Charlie faltered, as he tried to make sense of his thoughts. "I shouldn't… enjoy it as much as I do."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "It's definitely an alternative lifestyle."

"I've never been happier," Charlie stated, with honesty. "It's weird. I thought…"

Charlie stared at the rusting iron bars of his cage, a faraway look in his eyes.

"I thought I'd never be happy again," he muttered, finally.

There was a long silence.

The Doctor finally asked: "What's wrong, Charlie?" fully expecting the answer to be along the lines of _'Nothing, I'm fine.'_

Instead, Charlie hesitated. "I don't know. I…"

He looked up at the Doctor, nervously, unable to maintain eye contact for more than 0.8 seconds.

"It probably sounds stupid…"

The Doctor shrugged. "That's okay. Humans are like that."

Charlie shook his head, smiling. As he spoke, his serious expression returned.

"I guess I'm scared that this is gonna end. One day, I won't be doing this with you."

"Should that be a bad thing?"

Charlie looked at him for a moment. He didn't know how to respond.

The Doctor watched Charlie, as he pondered on the thought, and smiled.

"Do you know why I took you with me?"

"To avoid a time travel paradox?" Charlie suggested.

"Apart from that."

"No," admitted Charlie. "I've thought about it a lot. I began to realise how important your friends are. I mean, everyone who travels with you is… _really lucky_ to see everything you see. Travelling with you… it's almost like I've been chosen over every other person on the planet."

Charlie took a deep breath, and scrutinised his hands.

"And I just don't think I'm worthy of it."

"And why not?" the Doctor asked gently.

Charlie shrugged, rubbing his arms.

"I'm no-one special. I've done nothing special. My head's a mess. I've made mistakes, and I… just don't think I've earned the right."

The Doctor regarded Charlie passively for a moment. He was giving nothing away.

"Do you know why you're wrong?" the Doctor questioned.

Charlie frowned.

Before he could respond, a glow from the opposite wall distracted him. The Doctor and Charlie watched in astonishment as the tabby kitten casually ambled through the solid stone.

"Don't move," whispered the Doctor, his senses alert.

The kitten regarded them for a moment, and slunk through the bars in the opposite row of cages.

"Okay, here's my plan," hissed the Doctor, "Wait for it to come closer. Then I'll try and grab it from behind. You keep it occupied."

Charlie sat as still as possible, as the kitten padded closer, curious. He held his breath, and as soon as the kitten was within reach of the Doctor, he reached through the bars, and presented his hand.

The cat sniffed the proffered hand, and stared up at him with cute, but vulnerable eyes. Charlie tentatively placed his hand behind the kitten's ear, and stroked the back of its head. He smiled, consciously ignoring the Doctor as his arms inched through the cage, just behind the animal's line of sight, attempting not to alert it to his presence.

The kitten began to purr, softly. Charlie felt the noise resonate within him, and found it soothing. He looked into its mesmerising eyes, and felt a strange connection between them.

As he stared into the dilated pupils, Charlie felt himself drawn in by the irises, burning an icy blue. Words formed vaguely in his mind.

 _Who are you?_

Charlie frowned, imploringly.

"What did you say?" he breathed.

A loud thump from the door startled him. The kitten evaporated in a haze of blue dust.

The Doctor's outstretched hands clasped thin air, and he smacked his head on the metal bars as he lost his balance.

"Not _again!_ " groaned Charlie.

One of the guards thrust open the heavy dungeon door.

"The Queen has ordered that your execution be brought forward two hours."

"Get lost, pudding-brain!" the Doctor yelled.

Charlie fretfully massaged his forehead. "We have to go after it."

"Did you understand that?" the guard rumbled. "You are to be executed now!"

"Why? Is she _that_ bored?" sniped the Doctor. "For god's sake, get her a hobby."

The guard looked affronted, and pulled out a long, curved sword.

"There'd better not be any trouble…" he warned.

"Look, do you mind?" interjected Charlie apologetically. "We're kinda busy at the moment."

The Doctor unbuttoned his left shift cuff, and rolled up his sleeve. He was wearing a gold-plated bracelet, engraved with strange alien insignia. Carefully twisting one of the dials on the device revealed a hidden compartment, filled with dozens of tiny whirring gears.

Charlie thrust his hand through the bars, and grabbed the Doctor's wrist, as he activated the device.

The cell around them flickered, like an old videotape played in fast forward. The guard's expression of surprise vanished in dust. Charlie felt every inch of his body being crushed, pressing the air out of his lungs.


	3. Lost in Time

The world transformed around them; incredible gravitational forces threatened to yank out Charlie's insides. The ground seemed to abandon them, as the Earth rolled along its path through the solar system, leaving them stranded in space.

Charlie witnessed the planets dance around the sun, hundreds of years passing before his eyes in the time it took for him to draw breath. It seemed that seconds had passed, yet he had lived through a dozen lifetimes.

The sickening whirlpool of stars spinning around them slowed, releasing them from insane cosmic pressures, as the Earth rushed back to them once more.

The Doctor and Charlie materialised in a leafy glade, a short distance away from a small copse of coniferous trees.

Charlie released his grasp, and collapsed into the grass, gasping for air.

The Doctor craned his neck, stretching his aching muscles.

"Not as comfortable as TARDIS travel, I'll admit," the Doctor said.

Charlie rolled onto his back, and laughed.

"You don't say," he winced. "Ohh… now I feel sick."

"Not this again…" the Doctor sighed, concealing the bracelet underneath his sleeve once more, "This old Time Ring is the best I could do at short notice."

Charlie slowly sat up, examining their surroundings.

"Where are we?"

The Doctor looked around, his gaze penetrating the dark wood, and then across the glade, where there was a lake glittering in the afternoon sun.

"Tastes like the nineteen eighties, but it looks like the _nine_ eighties."

The Doctor dashed over in the direction of the lake, and staggered to a halt.

"No, that's not right." He slapped his forehead. "Oh, of course! Camelot!"

Charlie exhaled sharply, coughing. His eyes watering, he managed to splutter: "What!?"

"The home of the once and future king!" the Doctor proudly proclaimed. "At least, when he settled on Earth. Although I'm not sure if this is once, or the future…"

"I'm sorry, we're in Camelot?" Charlie asked, standing up, his head spinning. He was struggling to catch up with the Doctor's declarations.

"Yeah. Or Glastonbury, as it's sometimes known. Now that," the Doctor griped, pointing into the air, "was a mistake… Accidentally brought Green Day to perform for the Round Table. Not sure they were too impressed, but Gwen seemed to like it."

"Round Table? I mean, like King Arthur? Here? He's real? _Merlin's_ real?"

"Yes…" confirmed the Doctor. "Hello."

Charlie stared at the Doctor, once again, overwhelmed by the Doctor's matter-of-fact approach to this preposterous situation. What was the Doctor insinuating? That he was the wise wizard - the legendary magician - offering counsel, and speaking supernatural prophecies... No, actually, he could believe that.

"But let's not stay here too long. It's a silly place," the Doctor muttered gravely. "I could run into someone I know. Let's just find the cat and get out of here."

"The Lady of the Lake…?" continued Charlie.

"Oh, yes!" the Doctor asserted. "I think you'd have liked her. She was, as you might say, _'Ace'_."

The Doctor grinned, reminiscing for a moment, before something new snatched his attention away.

"Oh, look, a dolmen! I haven't seen one of those in ages."

And the Doctor was off once more. It took Charlie a moment for his brain to catch up, and a few seconds to notice that the Doctor had disappeared into the woods.

When Charlie found him again, the Doctor was peering through what seemed to be an archway made from a large, flat rock, propped up by two other rocks.

"It's just some rocks," decided Charlie.

"Yes, well," the Doctor grinned, strumming an air guitar for a brief moment, "You know me…"

Charlie rolled his eyes. He didn't need reminding. The Doctor's love of rock had very recently taken them to a concert on a space. It had been great, until Charlie had been kidnapped by alien foxes.

"So this cat… why is it important we find it?"

"To stop a war," the Doctor answered.

"Yeah, I remember that. I just don't understand how finding a cat will prevent a war. Is it like some sacred mascot, or something?"

"I don't know. Don't ask me about the intricacies of diplomacy. The reasons people give for starting wars never make any sense to me."

"I thought you were supposed to know everything."

The Doctor rapped on the stone. It was indeed stone.

"As much as I'd like to think otherwise, I actually don't. For instance, I still have no idea why the Sphinx doesn't have a nose. I really must find that one out. I always thought it was Napoleon's fault, but he viciously denies it…" The Doctor's eyes narrowed, and he stared into the air, deep in a trail of thoughts. He quickly snapped out of it.

"And whatsisname, uh… he seemed pretty keen on it."

"Agent Mendath?"

"Yes, him. _'The fate of an entire civilisation depends upon it.'_ "

Charlie shrugged. "Yeah, but everyone says that.

"How does this cat have the power to travel through time anyway?"

"I would imagine," the Doctor considered, "for the same reason it can stop this war."

"Special powers that'll save the universe?"

"Potentially. More likely, it has chronological significance. Objects – people – are important to the world around them. Removing something from the timeline can have a devastating effect on future history." The Doctor stared at Charlie for a moment, his ear pressed against the stone structure. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah." Charlie nodded enthusiastically. "Kind of…"

"Hmm. What do you think this is?" the Doctor stood back from the primitive archway, and pointed to it.

Charlie looked at the pile of rocks, and was about to answer, when a sudden thought struck him, and he reconsidered his response to take it into account.

"It's a doorway," he spoke, in the manner of quiet revelation.

"Right," the Doctor agreed, "my druid pals thought these things had mystical powers. They don't know the half of it! Anyway, yes, it's a doorway. A gateway…" the Doctor corrected himself. "Technically, it's more of a router."

He began to search the stones, perhaps looking for a way through it.

Charlie realised that the Doctor was speaking in terms of computer components, which would suggest that the stones were part of a network, which linked two things together. Charlie had been around the Doctor long enough to deduce that the 'things' the gateway connected together were dimensions. So through the stone structure, there must be another dimension, like our own.

"Is this like a Stargate?" Charlie asked.

"A what?"

"A gate to," Charlie regretted answering almost as soon as the words left his mouth, "the stars?"

"Of course not. You'd burn up under intense hydrogen fusion."

"You know what I mean."

The Doctor's lip curled up in amusement. "Yes, it is a gateway to another world."

The Doctor was about to scan the stones with the sonic screwdriver, when he remembered that he hadn't brought it with him. He patted his coat pockets regardless.

There was a sound, not dissimilar to tubular bells, and ancient symbols began to etch themselves in the archway, glowing with an ethereal light, burning into the stone, one by one. Finally, the last symbol was scorched into the rock.

The Doctor leapt back from the gateway, as a portal flickered into life; purple flames dancing, licking out at the stone.

"Are we supposed to go through?" ventured Charlie.

"No, the cat should be in this exact time and place. We would be wasting our time."

The portal flashed a brilliant white, and the very cat they were searching for scampered through, eyed them both, and carried on its way past them.

The Doctor peered at it in a mixture of bewilderment and fascination as the portal vanished.

"I see," muttered Charlie. "That was a heck of a coincidence."

"The Time Ring _is_ programmed to lock onto its residual temporal energy signature. We were just a little early."

"But why did it come through that gateway? It's never done that before. And then it just… walked right past us?"

The Doctor snapped his fingers, his eyes aflame.

"Of course! Don't you see! This is how it got here. It hasn't seen us before. This is the moment that our kitten pal arrived on Earth. Our timelines are out of sync!"

"So, are we still in the right place?" queried Charlie.

"Yes. Maybe." The Doctor fiddled with the Time Ring for a moment. It rattled when he shook it, which wasn't a very reassuring sound. "These things are useless! We must have slipped a time track."

"Uh, Doctor?"

The Doctor held Charlie's stare for a minute, before they both turned their attention to their quarry. They had more important things to worry about!

The Doctor pointed at the kitten with a flourish, as it meandered through the trees.

"Quick, after it!"

* * *

 **I hate good wizards in fairy tales. They always turn out to be him.**


	4. The Indefinite Quest

The Doctor and Charlie rushed across the grass, and began to follow the kitten down a dirt path.

Their feline friend didn't seem to be in much of a hurry, and they were able to keep up with it as they walked briskly down the road.

The Doctor seemed to enjoy the English countryside, drawing deep lungfuls of air, and drinking in the surrounding scenery, as if he were merely out on an afternoon stroll.

Charlie didn't quite share his interest in the surrounding landscape; there just seemed to be a lot of trees, in varying shades of green.

The trees bordering the path began to peter out as they approached a cluster of stone buildings. There were a couple of people working outside – the first sign of civilisation Charlie had seen since they'd arrived. He guessed that they weren't far from a small town or a village.

"Try to look inconspicuous," the Doctor muttered, nodding politely at a man who had stopped chopping wood outside his house to watch them walk past.

"Yeah," agreed Charlie, glancing down at his black t shirt, a logo of a sci-fi film stamped across the chest in bold orange letters. He adjusted his hoodie, attempting to conceal most of the writing.

"The trick is just to look like you belong here," the Doctor informed him.

"Oh, absolutely," agreed Charlie, a little sarcastically. "That always works."

"You'd be surprised."

They quickly passed the houses, trying to seem as innocent, and as local as possible.

It was after a few minutes of uneventful meandering, mostly filled with the Doctor expressing his fascination with all the species of wildlife he could spot – something Charlie couldn't really muster any enthusiasm for – that they heard the galloping of half a dozen horses.

A band of men in grubby metal armour rode up in front of them, and came to a clattering halt a few feet away. Judging by all the shields bearing ancestral emblems and the billowing red capes, they were knights. Exactly the sort of knights you would expect to see in an illustrated book about _The_ _Tale of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table_.

The kitten had darted into a bush the moment it heard the horses' hooves.

The Doctor looked as if he was about to do the same, when one of the knights addressed him.

"Halt, friend."

The Doctor shot Charlie an exasperated look, and Charlie could tell he really wasn't in the mood to entertain people.

"I'm not your friend, you oversized tin can," the Doctor grumbled.

The knight who spoke pushed his peaked visor up, and his feathery blue plume fell back, out of sight. He was a thin man in his thirties, with a round chin sporting a thin spatter of stubble.

"I say!" he declared. "It seems we've run into a couple of stray vagabonds in fancy dress."

So much for looking inconspicuous, Charlie mused, as he shot the Doctor an 'I told you so' look.

"Go away!" the Doctor moaned. "We're really, very busy. Go and rescue a dragon, or something."

"Hold on a sec, Leon," interjected one of the other knights, removing his helmet, which, frankly, looked like an upturned bucket. Unlike Leon, this knight was a rather rotund figure with a ruddy complexion, and a large, bushy moustache drooping under a scarlet- red nose. If Charlie didn't know better, he'd say that this was a man who spent a great deal of his time drinking beer.

"Isn't that the wise wizard Merlin?"

"Shut up, Gavin, _I'm_ the quest leader!" griped the first knight.

Charlie gaped up at him. _Gavin?_

The red faced knight, apparently named Gavin, shrugged. "Perhaps Merlin could guide us on our venture?"

The Doctor sighed, rolling his eyes. "I could really do without this."

The knights conferred for a moment, their susurrations inaudible.

Meanwhile, the bush into which the cat had disappeared, stirred, and Charlie noticed it prowl along in the shadow of the leaves, its wide eyes fixed on the shuffling horses.

Charlie nudged the Doctor, who nodded irritably.

Leon drew their conference to a close, and addressed the Doctor again.

"Are you the wise wizard, Merlin?" he asked.

"Not today, no. Only on Wednesdays," the Doctor replied.

The knights regarded him with some confusion, and turned a suspicious eye at him.

"But you are he?"

"Yes, yes I am 'he'," the Doctor gave in.

"I told you," Gavin mumbled, smugly. Leon shot him a scathing glare.

"I am honoured by your presence, Merlin. Perhaps you and your… squire… can aid us?"

Leon looked Charlie up and down, sizing him up. He did not seem particularly impressed.

Charlie was a little affronted, and decided to watch the progress of the cat instead, as it crept along the side of the road.

"Sir Gavin and me-"

"Sir Gavin and _I_ ," corrected the Doctor.

"Yes," Sir Leon harrumphed, "Sir Gavin and I, and these other brave adventurers…"

"Stop beating around the bush," the Doctor snapped. "Just tell me what you want!"

Sir Leon frowned, but bowed his head in acknowledgement, and continued in respect of the Doctor's request.

"We are on a quest for the Blade of Solitude," Leon announced. "A most magnificent weapon, one requiring a highly skilled swordsman – greater than Excalibur itself. Legend says that it was hidden in a faraway land many centuries ago. Can you help us find it?"

"The Blade of Solitude?" questioned the Doctor, peering up at the knights, astounded.

His interest peaked, just for a moment. But then his frown quickly dissolved into a ridiculing grin.

"But that's just a myth. There's no such thing!"

"A… a myth?" Leon managed to utter.

The Doctor laughed. "Yes! You're wasting your time!"

Sir Gavin grumbled, and knocked on Leon's shoulder. "Knew it."

"What, are we just going to give up?" Leon exclaimed, rallying his men. "Abandon our glorious quest?"

The other knights offered no defence in favour of the quest, and shrugged indifferently.

Leon seemed crestfallen, and mourned the ending of his quest for a few moments.

"Very well," he said, quickly re-establishing his whole-heartedness and authority. "We shall continue on our quest… down the pub. Anyone up for a beer?"

"Beer? Yeah?"

"Yeah," the other knights enthusiastically agreed.

"Would you join us, Merlin?" offered Sir Leon.

"No, I really am very busy," the Doctor grumbled.

"No? Very well, then."

A few seconds of snapping reins and stomping hooves later, the knights had turned around, and began to gallop back the way they came.

"On, Cobalt!" roared Sir Leon.

"On, Wildfire!" imitated Sir Gavin.

"Gavin!" moaned Leon, "I'm the quest leader – only _I_ get to gallantly holler my valiant steed's title."

"Well, I figured, seeing as how we no longer have a quest, there isn't really any need for a leader…"

The Doctor shot Charlie a look of exhaustion, puffing his cheeks out, and whistling: "Phew! I thought they'd _never_ go. Hopefully, we won't be seeing them again."

Charlie nodded in agreement. "No."

They walked a little faster down the path, catching up with the kitten, which was currently washing its paws.

Charlie watched it for a moment, and thrust his hands into his pockets.

He turned to the Doctor. "Shouldn't we just grab her now?"

"No," the Doctor sighed. "The irritating thing is; we've already seen a future version of it. Which means we can't catch her this time. We're just going to have to wait until she disappears again."

"And then you can get us back on track?"

"Exactly."

Charlie sat down next to the tabby kitten, and offered his hand to her.

If there was nothing to be done, apart from minding the kitten, Charlie figured that he might as well take the opportunity for a little bonding session.

The Doctor caught on quickly with an excited exclamation: "Yes! Do that! Brilliant idea. If we can show it we mean no harm, that we can be trusted, perhaps it will make it easier to catch the kitten next time our paths cross."

Charlie nodded, motioning that the Doctor should express himself a little more quietly. He feared it might upset the cat again.

"Ah yes," the Doctor whispered, and retreated a few steps, watching Charlie in silence, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

The cat mewed, resting her head on Charlie's knee as he gently stroked her fur.

"I did wonder why she seemed to like you more than me," the Doctor remarked.

The kitten purred in contentment as she lazed in the warm sun for a few minutes, all the while gazing up at Charlie with her brilliant blue eyes.

There was something a little unusual about those eyes, but Charlie couldn't quite work out what it was. He wasn't too worried. He was rather relaxed, actually. It was nice, every now and then, to have a quiet moment on an adventure with the Doctor. It made a change from being shot at by alien warlords. Maybe he should get a cat when he got back home.

Maybe they should have a cat with them in the TARDIS. Would the Doctor keep pets? Somehow, Charlie doubted it.

Eventually, the cat decided to move on, so the Doctor and Charlie walked with it.

The kitten led them to a tavern a short distance down the road, named the _Two-faced Snake_.

It appeared to be a cosy, bustling inn. There were a few horses tied up outside, nuzzling at the hay stacked up in a wooden trough.

The smell of freshly cooked food drifted outside, tempting them to come in.

A creaking sign, suspended from a wrought iron bracket, depicted a coiled snake, with a hissing head at both ends of its body.

It made Charlie uncomfortable just looking at it. It reminded him of their disastrous trip to Morovia.

The kitten decided to enter through a window.

The Doctor and Charlie looked at each other for a moment, and shrugged, before pushing open the door.


	5. A Knight on the Town

It was much louder inside the tavern, and Charlie was a little concerned that it might overwhelm his senses.

No – they were on a mission. He had to keep it together.

The Doctor was rather dismayed to spot the knights huddled around a table, swigging pints from large metal tankards.

He tried to keep his head down, but Sir Gavin saw him straight away.

"Hey, look! It's our friend, Merlin!"

The knights roared cheerfully.

The Doctor threw them a reluctant wave, accompanied by an expression that was more of a grimace than a smile.

"I hoped they wouldn't notice us," the Doctor grumbled to Charlie.

"Yeah," Charlie replied absent-mindedly.

Charlie wasn't paying the knights much attention. He was focusing on where the kitten had disappeared to. It would be difficult to find again if they lost her amongst all the people drinking in here.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted her climbing up into the rafters, perching nervously on the edge of a beam as she stared unblinkingly at all the locals.

She didn't look to be going anywhere anytime soon – which the Doctor agreed with, suggesting they find somewhere to sit, and keep an eye on the kitten.

The knights called for the Doctor to join them, but he politely declined, instead finding a quieter spot in the corner of the tavern, which offered a decent view of the whole room.

They sat at the table in silence, watching the tipsy merrymakers loudly chatting to one another.

As anticipated, the kitten didn't move from her spot.

The Doctor audibly cleared his throat – making far too much noise for it to be a bit of a cough. Charlie turned to him, wondering what he was having difficulty trying to say.

"When we were trapped in that cell earlier," the Doctor began, tracing the knots in the table's wood with his fingers. "I noticed you were a mite… uh, worried…"

Charlie sighed. He had hoped that the Doctor would stop bringing this up. "Yeah, well. I was worried we were gonna die."

"Except you weren't," the Doctor quickly proclaimed, staring at him pointedly, "You're not worried about death, are you?"

Charlie wasn't sure how to answer, so he didn't. He looked over at the kitten instead.

"So what's got you worried, Charlie Drake?" the Doctor asked, his steely grey eyes locked on him, interrogating him, silently forcing him into a confession.

"I just don't want to let you down," Charlie muttered quietly. He didn't turn back to the Doctor, but he saw him nodding. Fortunately, he was going to let the questions rest.

"I think I'll go get a drink," Charlie spoke up, desperate to get away for a moment.

"At the bar?" queried the Doctor. "You're under age."

"Well, I'll just get a coke."

"Charlie, it's the tenth century."

"Oh yeah. Maybe just water, then."

"No, don't drink the water!" the Doctor warned. "It's riddled with disease. You'll die of cholera within hours."

Charlie shrugged. "Well, what can I drink?"

"See if they have any freshly pulped juice."

"Juice. Great." Charlie nodded irritably, as he pushed his way over to the bar.

"And get me one, as well," the Doctor called after him. "As long as it's not carrot juice. Anything but that!"

Charlie leaned on the burnished bar, in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner, feeling more and more uncomfortable as he waited to be served.

There was a girl at the bar as well, her long ginger hair tumbling over her shoulder in a neat plait. She kept looking at him – and glancing shyly away whenever he noticed.

He was extremely aware of his cheeks turning crimson.

The Doctor, sat at their corner table, didn't appear to be paying any attention to him. He was tinkering with a few electronic gizmos on the table, as though that were a perfectly normal thing to do in a medieval bar.

The kitten was still hunched up in the rafters, watching the goings on.

"What'll it be, young sir?"

Charlie's head whipped round, startled.

The barman, a thickset man with a crooked nose from one too many fights, was peering at him, hands splayed over the bar. He seemed puzzled by Charlie's clothing, but didn't comment. "Beer?"

"Uh, no, not for me. Just two, uh… freshly pulped juices?"

The barman narrowed his eyes, and disappeared for a few moments, returning with two glasses of suspiciously cloudy liquid.

"Six pence, then."

"Oh, wow, that's…" Charlie uttered in surprise. He was cut short by the girl with the ginger hair.

"That's ridiculous. Your prices are always going up!" she complained.

Charlie dug out a few copper coins from his pocket, cursing when he realised that he couldn't use modern decimal currency in the tenth century. Where would he get the right money? Would the Doctor have some?

He looked over. Probably not.

"Don't worry, I'll pay for you," the girl kindly offered, seeing his worried expression, "I've got a job cleaning up at old Baron Ashdown's house. I can afford it."

"Oh, well, thank you," Charlie quickly muttered, grabbing the two drinks as she paid.

"So, you're obviously not from around here."

"Obviously, yeah."

"We get all sorts in here. It's on the main road, you see."

"Yes," Charlie agreed, itching to get back to the Doctor. Unfortunately, the girl was trying to make conversation.

"I can show you around the town if you'd like," she suggested, playfully curling her hair around her fingers.

"We probably won't be staying all that long," Charlie quickly shot down the offer. "Thanks though."

"You'll be staying the night at least?"

Her eyes were wide, as was her smile.

Charlie picked up the drinks, desperately trying to inch away. He could see where she was going with this.

"Sorry, you're… asking me out, aren't you?"

"I thought _that_ was obvious, too," the girl replied with a smile.

"Yeah, sorry, I don't… do that…" Charlie uttered, his words escaping from his mouth faster than he could keep up with.

"Do what? Go on dates?" she laughed.

"Yeah!" Charlie exclaimed, a little too sharply. "I don't… date people. Sorry."

"Oh. Okay, that's… fine…" the girl said, still smiling, but more confused now.

"Sorry," Charlie said again, backing away. "Thanks for the drinks though… really appreciate it."

He turned away, and rushed back to the table before the girl could get another word in.

The Doctor grabbed the glass Charlie offered him, and drank the whole lot in one go, before Charlie had even sat down.

"Ah!" the Doctor smacked his lips. "That's disgusting!"

"Are you serious?" Charlie whinged, taking a sip of his own drink. Actually, it was quite bitter. He slid the glass away.

He locked his fingers together, and flexed his hands agitatedly.

The Doctor seemed to be deep in thought.

It was one of those rare quiet moments, Charlie considered, when they weren't getting shot at, chased by monsters, or threatened with execution.

He'd have to fill the time with small talk. Somehow, that was more difficult.

"Doctor, that girl at the bar…" Charlie began.

"What about her?"

"I think she was… flirting with me."

The Doctor looked at him, mystified.

"And?"

"But seriously, she's been dead for over a thousand years," Charlie protested.

"She looks all right to me." The Doctor crossed his arms, and leaned back. "What's the problem?"

"And back in Egypt, Cleopatra said I was attractive…"

The Doctor nodded sagely. "You're probably experiencing the Future Effect. Natural selection means that humans get steadily more attractive." He waved his hand dismissively. "By your own standards, of course.

"So to someone far in your planet's history, you have the figure of Adonis. By the same logic, I imagine you'll have less luck with humans in your future."

"Do you think it's weird that we keep meeting famous people?" Charlie asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Not really. People who have a major impact on history tend to have a kind of… temporal nexus form around them. It excites the Artron energy that's used in time machines like the TARDIS. Draws us in. Besides, it's a hobby of mine. When you can go anywhere in time and space, why wouldn't you take the chance to meet them?"

"Do you ever travel with them? Or only less important people like me?"

The Doctor frowned. "What is it with you today? Stop saying you're not important. You are!"

"Have you?" Charlie swerved the Doctor's affirmations.

He looked away for a moment, searching through his memories.

"I travelled with Mary Shelley. You've heard of her?"

"She wrote Frankenstein?" Charlie recalled.

"Yes. The Modern Prometheus, as it's also known."

"But you didn't want Alan Turing with us?"

The Doctor sighed. Charlie was staring up at him with so much worry and confusion buried deep inside.

"No, I couldn't. There was too much at stake. He would have left with us, and would never have wanted to go back. And that wouldn't be very good for history. Temporal nexuses, remember?

The Doctor threw Charlie a wry grin. "Besides, he obviously fancied me, and I think that could have been awkward."

Charlie shared in his joke for a few minutes, reminiscing silently. Spending time with Alan had prompted him to think through a few dilemmas.

Lost in his thoughts, he very nearly failed to notice two men walk into the inn.

He gasped, frozen in his seat for a moment.

The Doctor's face crumpled into a concerned frown. "Are you okay?"

Charlie nodded, gesturing towards the door as subtly as possible.

"What?" the Doctor asked, staring at Charlie's twitching fingers.

"Those two guys," Charlie whispered.

"Which two guys?" the Doctor questioned, glancing around, "There are loads of guys in here."

"By the door," Charlie hissed. "They _clearly_ don't belong here."

The Doctor finally spotted the two men, and agreed that they did indeed stick out like a sore thumb.

The men were clean shaven, and immaculately dressed in some kind of futuristic suit-slash-jumpsuit. And, Charlie hastened to add mentally, they were armed. Both men had holsters strapped to their belts – probably containing a deadly laser pistol.

The cat – also spotting the newcomers - leapt down from the rafters, landing clumsily on a shelf, scrambled away, through an open doorway.

The two men conferred momentarily, and began to push their way through the rowdy crowd.

"Uh oh," uttered Charlie. "This isn't good."

"Are there other people after this cat?" the Doctor asked, a mite puzzled.

"Yeah, Mendath warned us there might be," Charlie answered, rising from the table.

"Who's Mendath?"

Charlie's shoulders slumped, visibly exasperated by the Doctor's apparent lack of memory.

"You remember, the guy who sent us on this wild kitten chase!"

"Oh, black hair, bushy eyebrows? Master-goatee?"

Charlie's eyebrows plummeted into an estranged frown. "I don't think that's… You don't remember anyone you've met, do you?"

"Now, Connor, you know that's not true," the Doctor replied with a smirk, discreetly getting to his feet as well.

Charlie sighed in defeat. "Okay. But we need to stop them from hurting that cat."

"I've got an idea," the Doctor declared, his eyes glinting with excitement.

He bounded over to the table where Sir Gavin and Sir Leon were drinking with the other knights.

"Oi, tin man!" the Doctor yelled, thrusting his finger at Sir Gavin.

The other locals in the pub put their tankards down for a moment, trying to work out what was going on.

"Call yourself a knight of the realm? I've seen donkeys fight better than you!" the Doctor snarled.

"Oho!" the other knights roared, grinning at the Doctor's insult.

"I say…" Sir Gavin muttered, his mouth hanging open in surprise. "How… how could you?"

Charlie had to stop himself from burying his head in his hands. What was the Doctor doing? The two men were still pushing their way across the room, trying to reach the doorway without arousing _too_ much suspicion. They had seen the Doctor's sudden outburst, and were trying to move along faster

Charlie quickly realised what the Doctor was trying to do, and rushed over to the knights' table to explain.

He pushed in front of the Doctor, and leaned in to the knights. There was an unpleasantly strong odour of alcohol around them.

"Basically, he wants you to create a distraction, to stop those two bad guys over there," Charlie quickly summarised for the man, pointing at the two strangely dressed assassins.

"Oh. Why didn't you say?" Sir Gavin exclaimed. "But what for?"

"They're United supporters," the Doctor stated, leaning over Charlie's shoulder.

"They're what?" the knights gaped at him with more puzzled expressions.

"They want to kill us," Charlie hissed, "and we'd much rather they didn't."

"Well, fair enough," Gavin waved at the other knights. "Come on lads, let's show them how it's done."

" _Sir Gavin!_ " a shocked Sir Leon tried to intervene, but the situation was soon far beyond his control.

The knights erupted into a roar, which set the whole pub off, and glorious chaos ensued.

People were rising from their seats, itching for a brawl.

Soon, there were windmilling arms everywhere; a tangle of swinging limbs and violent, directionless punches.

The two agents were overwhelmed in seconds.

They weren't quick enough to draw their weapons before the hard fists of the knights pummelled them to the ground.

Taking advantage of the confusion, the Doctor and Charlie skirted around the edge of the room, and dived through the doorway they had seen the kitten vanish through.

The kitten was standing on one of the wooden crates in the storeroom, where a large reserve of various beverages were stored.

A loud crash – the sound of a chair splintering – startled the kitten, and she vanished again, in a violet cloud.

There was some more yelling from inside the tavern. It sounded pretty hectic in there.

The Doctor pulled his sleeve back, offering his wrist for Charlie to grab onto, whilst he reprogrammed the Time Ring.

Charlie braced himself for another crushing transfer through time, as the Doctor stabbed the last button.


	6. Cat Burglars

_"Ow,"_ Charlie groaned, kneading his head. "I have the _worst_ headache right now."

"Perk up. You ought to be used to this by now," the Doctor chirped, checking his watch.

"The time stream's a bit of a jumble, but I think we're back in sync now," he explained, as Charlie scraped himself off the floor. "We can find this cat, and end this war."

"Sounds like a plan," Charlie mumbled. "The same plan we had three hours ago, mind."

"I think we're close!" the Doctor protested. "She just needs a little more delicate persuasion. Have you still got those cat biscuits?"

"No," replied Charlie. "We used them all during the French Revolution."

"Oh yes," the Doctor grumbled, rubbing his eyebrows together.

"Where are we this time?" Charlie asked, looking around at the glass skyscrapers rising above them; great silver fingers grasping for the heavens.

They were surrounded by white monoliths, dwarfed by the buildings, each one pulsing with dancing blue lights. They stood like trees along the sides of the street. Perhaps they _were_ trees, of sorts; photosynthesising, producing oxygen. The air seemed fresher, crisper, the likes of which was alien to Charlie in the heart of a city.

"Sheffield," the Doctor declared, gesturing around.

"Oh. Exciting," Charlie muttered a little sarcastically.

"2165. You know, I'm sure I've been here before." He frowned. "Or maybe I'll be here again. Not sure."

The Doctor and Charlie crossed the road, stopping a stream of autonomous taxis, which had seemed at first to be white lozenges rolling along the street.

They walked for a while through identical districts, following the faint trail of Chronon energy detected by the Doctor's Time Ring.

Charlie marvelled at the technology in things as simple as bins, and robotic street cleaners, each intelligently doing its job. It was all technology that was more than likely commonplace and incidental to the people living here.

"Ah, here she is!" the Doctor exclaimed, grinning broadly.

They found the kitten resting in a small green square – the first sign of nature they had seen in the city. It was a tiny space, no more than a couple of metres square, crammed with all kinds of growing vegetables, rising up the walls of the two closest buildings.

The kitten was laid out on the grass, making the most out of the sunlight available to her.

As soon as she spotted them, however, she rose up, and sauntered over to them, meowing loudly.

"She… waited for us?" Charlie uttered, a little surprised. He knelt down beside her, giving her some attention; scratching the kitten behind the ears, which she seemed to like.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, equally baffled, judging by his confused reaction. "Great place to hide, though. Absolutely nothing significant happens…"

The Doctor was cut short by a great, booming roar. Startled, the kitten looked up towards the sky.

A ship was descending from the clouds above them: a great black sphere, speared with eight vicious prongs, broadcasting a message across the city.

"No…" the Doctor growled.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, jumping to the Doctor's side in an instant. "Have you seen it before?"

A look of recognition in the Doctor's eyes indicated that he had.

"It's an invasion fleet," he uttered. "If anyone bothers to look up from their phones, there'll be mass panic."

"I… _what?_ " Charlie responded with a puzzled glare.

The Doctor scowled up at the ship, as the voice of the invaders reverberated between the glass towers:

"We claim this world for the glorious Sontaran Empire! You will surrender your filthy planet, or you will all die at the hands of General Kurrgh!"

"Oh, this is ridiculous," moaned the Doctor, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Kurrgh?" echoed Charlie, looking down, as the kitten brushed up against his leg.

"Gesundheit," the Doctor replied absent-mindedly.

Charlie shot him a bemused expression, as the Doctor began to pace the square of greenery.

"This shouldn't happen. The Sontarans don't invade Earth in 2165. They certainly don't invade _Sheffield!_ "

"I'm sorry, who are the… _Sontarans?_ " queried Charlie.

"Sontarans," the Doctor explained, "they're a race of soldiers, fighting a war against a load of giant jellyfish."- The Doctor wiggled his fingers, just in case Charlie wasn't sure what a jellyfish looked like. -"They want the Earth, because of its _'strategic value'_."

"Hold on a moment, Kurrgh?" the Doctor peered intently at the descending ships. "I'm sure I've met that one before."

He rubbed his chin, as the Sontaran ships opened fire; blood-red laser flashes erupting in the sky, like lightning.

"Uh…" Charlie began.

"It might have Kaagh. Or Korrg. I forget. They all look the same."

Charlie's eyes opened wide, a little stunned.

"Isn't that a bit… uh…?"

The Doctor peered at him. Behind him, explosions tinted the sky orange.

"A bit what?"

"You know?" Charlie shrugged awkwardly.

"No, I'm not sure I do!"

" _Species-ist?_ " he blurted.

"Oh! No," the Doctor chuckled, "They _do_ all look the same. They're clones of each other."

"Ah, okay, fair enough, I guess?"

"Right," the Doctor clapped his hands, "Enough chat. You keep an eye on this kitten; I'll go and sort this out."

"But-" Charlie tried to protest, but the Doctor was already running out into the street, his arms flapping incessantly, like a distressed penguin.

"I won't be long!" he called back.

"Right. Okay," Charlie responded, ultimately deciding that it was best to listen to the Doctor and stay with the kitten.

"Don't go anywhere!" the Doctor yelled, before he vanished around a corner.

"Yep," Charlie conceded.

Charlie had to take a step back, and look at himself.

Had he really been travelling with the Doctor for long enough that he wasn't worried about the imminent destruction of the planet?

He placed his hands on his hips, gazing up into the sky, watching the spheres like giant metallic golf balls zipping between the tall buildings.

 _Yes_ , yes he had.

He turned back to the tabby kitten, and sat down on the grass beside her, tucking his knees under his chin, trying to ignore the sounds of distant laser fire.

He reached out to her, and she hid her head under his outstretched arm.

Charlie found himself grinning as the kitten peeked at him through his fingers. Her icy blue eyes seemed less terrified now.

"It'll be okay," Charlie whispered, "The Doctor'll keep us safe."

He stroked her fur; soft, warm, and bristling with energy.

It struck him, as it always did when he spent a bit of time with an animal, that this tiny thing had life. Something so small and precious, and completely defenceless. Just looking into its eyes revealed that it was so alive. She saw, and thought, and felt things.

"You're not sure about us, are you?" Charlie said quietly.

The kitten cocked her head, as if confused.

"We _are_ only trying to help. They said there'd be a war if you weren't found."

He paused for a moment, lost in his thoughts, until the kitten pushed into his hand again, and he resumed tickling the cat behind her ears.

"The Doctor and I… we kinda like to stop that sort of thing before it happens..."

Charlie rubbed his tired eyes for a moment, wondering where this rather one-sided conversation was going.

"Um. You kind of spoke to me before. I just wanted to ask... Do you trust us? Do you trust _me?_ "

A voice spoke inside his mind again. It was quiet, but noticeable - like a doubt, or an impulsive thought.

He was sure it was the kitten. Even though her words had skipped the bit where sound waves travel through the air.

 _Does a Monkey trust the Proteus?_

"Uh, what?" Charlie blurted out, baffled.

 _You have a touch of the darkness about you._

"Do I?"

 _Both of you._

"Oh, both of us. You as in… _you_. Okay…?"

 _Why do you pursue this tail, when you must surely know this tale's end?_

Charlie shook his head, struggling to decipher the kitten's riddles. "I… the what? Why am I following you?"

The kitten blinked. That might have been an affirmative response.

"I'm just trying to help," he insisted. "You're in danger. There are these agents after you."

He frowned. "I don't get why. You're just a cat, aren't you? Like, an alien cat?"

The cat stared at him for a moment, and then nuzzled up against him, apparently bored with their conversation.

"Aren't you?" Charlie mused, looking distractedly at the sky, where dozens of fighter drones had met the Sontaran golf-ball pods in dogfights.

"You're not…"

This kitten could just be a kitten. But how could a being have such significance to so many people? Perhaps he was overlooking something. Did this kitten belong to a race of super-intelligent psychic time-travelling felines?

Charlie was shaken from his thoughts a few moments later, when the Doctor returned, looking grumpy and harassed as usual.

"Sorry, I was wrong," he declared, "The Sontarans _did_ invade Sheffield in 2165."

"I can see that." Charlie gestured towards all the Sontaran ships whizzing through the atmosphere.

"I was getting mixed up with the 3165 skirmish on Starship Scotland," the Doctor continued. "They didn't reckon with my rousing _Braveheart_ speech then, either."

"So, do you have a plan to stop them?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. "Well, I did have. Well, not really - I actually made it up as I went along."

The Doctor acknowledged Charlie's blank smile. He was nodding politely, pretended he had understand, when he really hadn't. To enlighten him, he explained: "You see, I'm already here. There's an earlier version of me who comes along in a bit and stops the invasion. It takes me a while. Not to worry. It all works out."

He grinned, pleased with the way things were turning out for once.

"Oh…!" he exclaimed suddenly, his grin extinguished.

"Oh?" queried Charlie.

Unfortunately, in his haste to get back to Charlie and the kitten, the Doctor hadn't thought to check if he was being followed.

He had already raised his hands when Charlie spotted the two agents behind him, presumably both jabbing pistols into the small of his back.

Charlie leapt to his feet, and stood at the Doctor's side.

Unlike the Doctor, he didn't feel the need to raise his hands to show he meant no harm.

Something about conversing with the kitten had ignited a spark inside of him. He felt responsible for it – to the extent that he was willing to put his own life on the line to protect her.

"Don't step any closer," Charlie growled, assuming a defensive stance. Assuming a defensive stance would look as intimidating as he imagined it would.

The Doctor threw him an expression of pure disbelief, as if to ask, _'what the hell do you think you're doing?'_ or perhaps, _'call that a defensive stance?'  
_

The two agents were not the same as the ones they had escaped in the medieval tavern. Charlie conjectured that the other two had been replaced, having failed in their mission.

These two looked less like stocky henchmen, born and raised fighters, and more like a mismatched couple – the only agents that could be scraped together at the eleventh hour, endowed with the unenviable task of pursuing a tricksy little cat through time and space.

One was a tall, skinny man with a permanent glower etched upon his features. His jumpsuit seemed a couple of sizes too large for him – it was baggy in places Charlie would have preferred it not to have been.

The other was a plump, but otherwise athletically built woman, who was just as stony faced as her colleague.

He presumed they were human, but they belonged to an ethnicity he didn't recognise. He might have said Maori; someone originally native to New Zealand, but their faces seemed far longer than any person's he had ever seen before, and their noses were extremely thin, almost coming to a point at the tip.

"We will take this cat," the woman said – she was clearly the one in charge. "You would be doing yourself a favour if you get out of our way."

"You would be doing _yourselves_ a favour by staying out of mine," the Doctor growled in response.

The defiance in the Doctor's voice gave Charlie chills. He was definitely going to win this one.

"And who are you, exactly?" the woman asked.

"I'm the Doctor. This is my friend Charlie Drake. And that cat is under our protection!"

 _Woah,_ thought Charlie. It was really nice to be on the Doctor's side when he was cross. He could be properly terrifying to face.

"Move _aside_ , please," the man barked.

"No," the Doctor uttered, his words throwing up a clear barrier between them.

If they wanted this cat, they would have to go through him.

Charlie backed the Doctor up by glaring at the man, who was (rather embarrassingly - to Charlie's disadvantage) much, much taller than he was.

"Very well, then," the woman very politely acknowledged the Doctor's position. She pulled a sliding lock on her weapon, and aimed it at the Doctor.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, daring the agents to do their worst.

A short, muscular alien barged straight into the middle of the standoff, wielding a heavy blaster weapon. Completely covered in gunmetal grey armour, tarnished with scuffs and scratches and alien blood, it clearly meant business.

"You will surrender to the Sontarans!" it roared.

 _Well, clearly, this was a Sontaran_ , Charlie observed.

The cat vanished in a puff of smoke. The agents shared a cynical look of irritation, and lowered their weapons.

Sighing, the Doctor gestured towards the Sontaran, unfazed by its deadly weapon and battle-worn armour.

"That was your fault!" he remarked.

"Surrender or-"

"Shut _up!_ " the Doctor moaned. "I've had it with you." He turned to the agents. "And you!"

"You dare defy the might of-"

"Yes! I dare." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Go away!"

"You are not from this measly planet," the Sontaran concluded.

"No, I'm not, thank you very much," the Doctor whined, mildly insulted. "But I'm known to you. I am the Doctor! I suggest you walk away, while you still can."

"A Sontaran does not retreat! I would rather die in battle than retreat."

With a great _whumph!_ of glowing red energy, the Sontaran jerked backwards, and collapsed to the ground.

The woman blew the smoke away from the nozzle of her gun.

As a laser pistol, Charlie wondered whether that little action was strictly necessary, or if it was just for show.

"You didn't have to do that!" the Doctor yelled.

 _Oh! Owned!_ Charlie called, silently. The Doctor was angry now.

"It was on stun!" the woman retorted.

"…Oh," the Doctor frowned, his unleashed fury hanging uselessly between them, its metaphorical presence sheepishly retreating into the background.

He turned to Charlie instead. "We need to go now, whilst the Time Ring's still locked onto the cat's trail."

"But what about the Sontarans?" Charlie reminded him, gesturing towards the unconscious soldier on the ground in front of them. "We can't just let the Earth get destroyed."

"Don't worry," the Doctor assured him. "I told you, I've been here before. I sorted it all out a few lives ago. Come on, _Allons-y!_ "

Charlie noticed the two agents muttering to each other, as they vanished.

 _"Who is this Doctor?"_ they seemed to be asking.


	7. Jurassic Larks

A new world materialised around them.

Charlie didn't have time to mention that he might be sick again, before the Doctor grabbed his hand, and pulled him into a run.

His feet were gliding over cracked, dehydrated dirt in a desolate wasteland. They skipped over decaying plants, and raced around boulders the size of houses; towering structures that cast threatening shadows in the dusk.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"You're holding my hand?"

"Sorry," the Doctor muttered, without releasing his grip.

The Doctor increased his pace, accelerating into a sprint, practically dragging a struggling Charlie behind him.

"Come on!" the Doctor yelled.

"I'm trying!" Charlie wheezed.

"I think we're nearly there. It's trying to shake us off – shake everyone off its tail." The Doctor snuck a sideways glance at Charlie, hoping he wouldn't criticise the pun. Fortunately, Charlie was too out of breath to comment.

The Doctor brought them to a stumbling halt, by the side of a roaring river.

He finally let Charlie go, and thrust his hands on his hips, working out their next move.

"Where's K-9 when you need him?" he muttered distractedly.

Charlie doubled over. He was pretty sure his legs were about to pop out of their sockets.

"Where's what?" he spluttered. "A _canine_ , did you say?"

"You know," the Doctor fixed him with puzzled glare. "K-9! Robot dog from the year five thousand…"

He bit his lip, paying a little more attention to his memories. His fierce expression relaxed. "No, hold on. You weren't there. Never mind."

Charlie sighed. Why did the Doctor constantly remind him that he wasn't that special, that he was just one of many companions lucky enough to share a couple of adventures in the TARDIS?

Straightening himself up, Charlie looked around, whilst the Doctor prodded at the river with a dried twig.

The surroundings seemed dead, populated only by whining insects, and a couple of birds wheeling overhead. He thought they might be far in the Earth's future, the land ravaged by humanity's careless hand. The world laid to waste, its natural resources used up and abandoned whilst the population drifted between stars, searching for new worlds to conquer.

"Shh!" the Doctor hissed, ducking down behind a cluster of rocks. He pulled Charlie into cover as well. "Listen!"

The sound was unlike anything Charlie had ever heard before.

It was a roar, so low it seemed to reverberate within his bones – within the very soul itself.

A violent, no-prisoners warning. No modern day recreation could ever do it justice.

"Woah," he uttered, transfixed by the sight as the beast thundered into view. "No way…"

"Shh!" the Doctor waved him quiet more vehemently this time. "Shut up!"

"But that's a T-Rex?" Charlie spouted, raising a finger to point pathetically at the gigantic dinosaur, stomping through a dry copse of trees.

"Yes, well observed," the Doctor grunted, "but now's not the time for flirting. Come on, we need to get to it before the agents do."

"Get to what?" Charlie muttered, watching at the enormous beast's jaws clamped down upon a helpless herbivore.

The Doctor shot him a pained expression.

"Oh, right, yeah," Charlie quickly recalled. "The cat."

The Doctor began to scoot along the river bank, gesturing for Charlie to follow as discreetly as possible.

"She's going to be in a lot of danger here," the Doctor said, glancing over at the wailing dinosaur caught in the jaws of the Tyrannosaurus Rex.

"Yes, but so are her pursuers," Charlie added.

"Maybe that's the point," the Doctor mused.

"Hold on, are you suggesting these jumps in time aren't random?"

The Doctor waggled his eyebrows, silently affirming Charlie's deduction, as he led them away from the barren landscape, and into a dense forest.

He discovered that it was uncomfortably hot and humid amongst the plant life, as they ventured quietly through the undergrowth. Already, Charlie's shirt was plastered to his skin with sweat, and he was regretting his choice of hoodie.

The Doctor kept glancing at his Time Ring, a puzzled expression darkening his features.

They stopped for a moment near a large mushroom; the Doctor peered through the trees around them.

"Where _is_ this cat?" he grumbled, scratching his chin. "We should be right on top of it, according to the time ring."

The place looked so surreal, Charlie thought. Even though he knew this was his home, it felt like they had journeyed to another world.

The Doctor had decided that simply standing around waiting for the cat to appear was pointless (not to mention boring), so he decided to keep trekking through the forest, following the vague, conflicting directions suggested by the Time Ring.

"Stay close," the Doctor warned, fixing Charlie with a stern look. "I don't like to venture as far back as this in Earth's history. It's incredibly dangerous to be here if you don't know the survival tricks. Some of the most highly evolved predators exist here and they won't hesitate to rip us apart."

"I figured," Charlie uttered, matching the Doctor's stage whisper.

He was trying to keep quiet, but the occasional bleeps and whines given off by the Doctor's device rather ruined their silence.

"But, like, how dangerous is it here?" Charlie asked.

"Very," the Doctor answered sharply. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh… I mean, we're not in danger from being hit by a meteorite, are we?"

"No," the Doctor grunted. "Seriously, you can't waste energy worrying about the highly unlikely. If you worry now, you'll only have to worry again later when the thing you're worrying about actually happens – that's if it ever does."

"But rest assured: you're not going to get hit by a meteorite."

Charlie chuckled to himself. "Why do I get the feeling you know exactly how and when the dinosaurs were wiped out?"

"Because I do," the Doctor insisted. "I was there when a spaceship blew up in the Earth's atmosphere. The explosion was enough to wipe half of all life off of the planet."

" _Right_ …" Charlie nodded sceptically. Some of the Doctor's stories were rather a stretch to believe at the best of times.

The Doctor sighed, snapping his eyes shut for a moment.

"I lost a good friend that day."

Charlie wasn't really sure how to respond to that. The weight of the Doctor's words, and the Doctor's half-concealed pain crushed him instantly

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Why did the Doctor keep bringing this up? The friends he had known and then lost.

"You remind me a little of him, actually."

Charlie was silent, so the Doctor threw him a sincere smile.

"It happened a long time ago, Charlie," the Doctor assured him. "Don't look so worried. I won't let anything happen to you."

"It's not that, I'm just thinking…" Charlie spoke before he could stop himself: "Couldn't you go back? Save your friend?"

"No," the Doctor uttered quietly. "The extinction event is a fixed point in time. I was there, and I daren't take the TARDIS back to such a fragile nexus point. It could wipe the human race from existence."

"You couldn't go back," Charlie acknowledged.

There was a loud zipping sound; a buzzing dragonfly, the size of a particularly large seagull, swooped past them, darting after an insect.

It was a merciful distraction for him. A distraction from the Doctor's tangible sorrow.

"Look at the size of that thing…"

"If you think that's impressive, you and I should take a trip to Vortis," the Doctor remarked.

As Charlie watched the humming insect, wings glittering with iridescent sapphires, he spotted movement through the trees.

The two agents were stalking them. They had been for some minutes.

They had seen him, but they were too late to react.

"Doctor. They're here! We need to run," Charlie cried.

Alerted by Charlie's outburst, the two agents drew their weapons, and took a couple of pot-shots.

Bursts of crackling energy rushed past Charlie's ears; nearby trees burst into flames.

Charlie cried out involuntarily, and took off after the Doctor, who was already hurtling through the forest, ducking and diving to dodge the hostile vegetation.

The prickly undergrowth lashed out at him as they stormed through the forest, leaving him covered in dozens of tiny cuts and gashes.

The agents weren't fast enough to catch up with them, Charlie was delighted to see, nor was their aim spectacularly accurate. However, he hadn't taken into account their advanced technology.

In a haze of light, the two agents shimmered into existence a few metres ahead of them.

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks, growling in irritation. Charlie stumbled breathlessly to a halt behind him.

"Short range teleports," the Doctor growled. "That's cheating! It's also incredibly bad for the environment. You'll start global warming 65 million years early."

"Don't move," the woman warned. "We _will_ shoot you."

"I don't doubt it," the Doctor snapped, throwing his arms out.

"Go on then," he challenged the agents, "Shoot us."

"Our weapons are set to kill!" the man uttered, his stern expression momentarily weakened by concern, perhaps fear.

"Doctor!" Charlie hissed, jabbing his arm. Why the hell was he provoking the armed agents into gunning them down?

"Those guns are nothing more than glorified tasers," the Doctor asserted with a smug grin. "They're just for show. You're not equipped with anything that'll actually _kill anyone_. Am I right?"

The agents shared nervous glances, but they didn't confirm the Doctor's suspicions.

"Yes. Of course I am."

"You're working with the enemy," the woman sneered. "We will not allow any harm to come to the Empress."

"The Empress?" queried the Doctor, his confident eyebrows dipping in confusion.

"Wait, hold on-" Charlie interjected, just as the female agent raised her weapon.

The next thing he knew, he felt a crippling electrical charge course through his body, bringing him to his knees and plunging him face first into the mossy earth.

He'd just been shot. The Doctor's gasp of pain told him he'd suffered the same fate too.

"You have troubled us for the last time," the woman uttered sharply.

Charlie closed his eyes; the intensity of the shock knocking him out cold in seconds.


	8. All's Fur in Love and War (I)

"Charlie. Charlie!"

The Doctor was yelling at him when Charlie finally came around.

Charlie shook himself awake, and immediately discovered that he couldn't move. His body was tightly bound to a rock, lengths of nylon straps – or some other futuristic material which was proving to be far tougher than ordinary rope - tying him down alongside the Doctor. He tried to wriggle free, but he could barely move his arms. The most he could do was awkwardly nudge the Doctor's sleeve with his hand.

The Doctor was encouraging him to try and move, but Charlie insisted that it was impossible. Those two agents really knew how to tie a knot.

"Why does this always happen?" Charlie groaned.

"Why does this…? It doesn't always happen!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"It does! We're always getting shot at and tied up."

"Look, I've told you a million times not to exaggerate."

Charlie rolled his eyes. Trust the Doctor to be making jokes even in the direst of situations.

"You know what," the Doctor muttered, after a having given up on all his usual escapology tricks. "I think I was mistaken about the true intentions of those agents."

"How so?"

"I think we're both at odds trying to _protect_ this cat," the Doctor explained.

"You mean we're on the same side? They're not rogue agents?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe they're not rogue agents. Maybe they are, but they want the cat for different reasons."

The Doctor sighed.

"They still tied us up!"

Charlie caught some movements in the trees around them. At first, he thought the agents might have come back to finish them off.

"I feel like we're missing part of the bigger picture," the Doctor mused, glaring into the middle distance.

As Charlie followed his gaze, he saw what he had been catching glimpses of out the corner of his eye.

The agents hadn't killed them – they'd left something far more efficient to do the dirty work for them.

"Ah. Charlie…?" the Doctor whispered, his voice turning grave.

"I've seen them," Charlie hissed back, struggling even more vigorously against the restraints. It did not help him at all; the bonds were cutting into his wrists.

Three dinosaurs, which Charlie identified as 'maybe velociraptors', were approaching them; inquisitively nuzzling the two of them, catching their scent.

"Okay, don't panic," the Doctor assured him, "We needn't really be worried unless they're female."

Charlie groaned again, letting his head drop back against the rock in despair.

"They're female, aren't they?"

"Naturally," the Doctor sheepishly admitted, "But don't worry, I can work something out."

The Doctor made a strange screeching noise, which scared the life out of Charlie. He peered at him, bemused.

The raptors screeched back. Inches from one of the creature's jaws, Charlie was blasted with the rancid stench of decaying meat. He grimaced, trying and failing to twist away from the predators.

"Just our luck," the Doctor growled. "They're not into us at all. They've got the hots for each other."

"They're what?" Charlie exclaimed, "How can you…?"

"I speak dinosaur," the Doctor informed him.

"But… you… _what?_ "

"Not feeling conversational, are we?" the Doctor cooed at the deadly creatures, as though they were merely uncooperative budgies or something. "Feeling a little peckish, are we? Yes, I thought as much."

Charlie prayed that something miraculous would come along to prevent his horrific demise at the claws of these prehistoric beasts. Those razor-sharp talons, which wouldn't look as scary when he saw them in a museum in a few million years' time, could very easily rip him apart right now.

He turned his face away from the snapping jaws of the raptors, and found his eyes lock with the kitten's icy blue irises.

She must have been hiding close to them this whole time, keeping to the thick patches of grass, unnoticed by both the agents and the raptors.

She spoke to him, her voice once again jumping straight into his mind.

 _I believe you are as honest as the Lords of Genaux._

"Good! I hope that's good," Charlie spouted, throwing the kitten a frown.

 _Despite allegiances, despite the web of mistrust woven around you, I believe your intentions are pure, child of the Earth. Your brave heart wanders the stars, for your world no longer ties you there._

Charlie bit his lip, losing the kitten's meaning as the words tumbled into his head.

 _I will help you if you help me._

Charlie nodded. "Yes! I will!"

 _Then it is time to stop running, Charlie. I will see you, in time._

With that, the cat vanished in a familiar haze of glowing particles.

"Quickly!" the Doctor urged. "The Time Ring!"

In a panic, Charlie scrabbled at the Doctor's sleeve, trying to uncover the device that could get them both out of here. It was fortunate that they had been tied up so close together, otherwise the Doctor would have had no chance to reach the time travelling bracelet by himself.

"Turn the big dial ninety degrees clockwise, then press the button."

"This dial?" Charlie queried, pointing at one of several brass dials divided by intricate carvings, all roughly the same size.

"I don't know!" the Doctor hissed. "I can't see! Hurry up!"

"Okay, okay!" Charlie almost shouted, struggling to twist his hand into a position where he could work the controls of the device.

Finally he managed it, straining his thumb to stab the activation button, and hold it in place against the device – if he wasn't touching it, he might be left in the past, as a dinosaur's lunch.

* * *

The world fell away. The stars swirled around in the vastness of space, accelerating as the millennia passed - so fast that they became white lines arcing through the night sky.

The plastic bonds that had been strapped around their arms and legs began to smoulder, and burn up as they travelled billions of years into the Earth's future. It was a worrying sight.

When their speed began to drop – thankfully marking the end of their journey, Charlie was alarmed to see the vague shape of the Earth roll past them – they had overshot!

Charlie braced himself, his anxious thoughts as the Time Ring dropped them somewhere – they could end up dying in the vacuum of space.

His fingers slipped away from the Doctor's wrist, and he fell face first into a hard floor.

"Was that meant to happen?" Charlie asked, keeping his eyes clamped shut as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet. He wasn't quite ready to take in his surroundings just yet. He needed a few seconds to recover, to push back that nauseating feeling.

"I… think so," the Doctor uttered, his voice laced with uncertainty. "The rope must have lost contact with the Time Ring."

"That could very easily be one of us, though."

"Try not to think about it," the Doctor advised.

When Charlie finally opened his eyes, they were flooded with a glittering array of sparkling gemstones.

They were in a grand hallway, with walls of a solid emerald material, that sparkled in the undiluted sunlight. The black stone under their feet was intricately patterned with precious metals; the lavish entrance meticulously polished. It held that art Deco grandeur Charlie might compare to the iconic interior of a place like the Empire State Building.

Deep set scorch marks at intervals in the floor whispered of the many spacecraft that landed here, fusion drive impellers leaving traces in the expensive flooring.

Behind them, the chamber was open to the elements.

Charlie couldn't help but grin as he hungrily absorbed the sight of the Earth looming over them, delicately draped in a blanket of cloud.

"Oh, this is unreal…" he muttered.

This was an extremely opulent hanger, although currently devoid of any spaceships.

The kitten miaowed loudly at him. She had been stood waiting here for the two of them to arrive.

 _Come. We are as safe here as we have been this entire journey._

"We're not safe here. Got it," Charlie acknowledged.

"Who are you talking to?" the Doctor was glaring at him with a perplexed look on his face.

Charlie gestured at the kitten, a rather sarcastic expression throwing the Doctor a _'who do you think?'_ kind of a look.

"Ah! Have you two been chatting this whole time? That rather explains a lot."

"Seriously?"

"Sorry, I've only been half paying attention. You seemed to have it covered." The Doctor gave him a quick thumbs up, just in case his approval hadn't come across verbally. "You've been doing very well, I have to say."

"Well. Okay. Thanks, I guess," Charlie mumbled awkwardly. "Do you know where we are?"

"We appear to be in the Earth's upper atmosphere, somewhere above the southern hemisphere," the Doctor conjectured, thrusting his hands into his pockets as he strode towards the hangar doors to have a look outside.

"And I'd say we were in a roaming city."

"A roaming city?" Charlie queried.

"Yes. It's a cross between a city and a spaceship. Basically, someone's parked their house in your planet's orbit."

 _It is the Empress' throne room,_ the kitten told him.

"So it's… yours?"

The Doctor frowned, once again wondering who Charlie was talking to. His gaze softened when he spotted the kitten looking up at the boy.

"You're the Empress - is that right?" Charlie guessed.

The kitten didn't respond, and instead began to stride across the vast emerald chamber.

The Doctor shrugged; they followed her to the other side. There were no exits to the flight deck, aside from the one which led out into space, so Charlie wasn't really sure where they were going.

"There's no door," Charlie pointed out, as they stopped on a tiled section of the floor adorned with circular mosaic patterns.

The Doctor grinned.

It took Charlie a moment to fathom the meaning behind the Doctor's expression.

Was he mocking him? Teasing him? No - encouraging him to look closer, work out for himself what the Doctor had already concluded.

Charlie looked down at the circular patterns they were stood upon - which dredged up a half forgotten memory of a lucky escape he had experienced with the Doctor.

"Wait… are we standing on a lift?"

"Very good."

Moments later, there was a hiss; the circular plates parted from the floor, and began to ascend.

"Go on," the Doctor urged Charlie. "You like your physics. Tell me how these work."

Charlie thought for a moment, initially stumped. Throwing the kitten a puzzled glance didn't prompt her to help him out.

"I'll give you a clue..." the Doctor added, "The proper name for this piece of technology is a _convection elevator_."

"Oh, convection." Charlie nodded enthusiastically. "Hot air's less dense than cold air? So it works on the same principle as a hot air balloon, then?"

"They're far more comfortable than your average elevator."

The thermal disc smoothly came to a stop, and clicked into its new home on the upper floor; a glittering corridor, richly carpeted in an alien fabric.

That wasn't the first thing the time travellers noticed, however. _That_ honour went to the six agents surrounding the elevator, each suited and booted like men in black (sans sunglasses) - and armed with heavy duty blaster rifles.

"Okay," the Doctor sighed, "Hands up who wasn't expecting that."

Charlie shot him a scathing look.

Neither of them raised their hands, which kind of answered the Doctor's question.

A tall man stepped out of the shadows, a cruel smirk dancing across his features.

A long, dark coat hung over his wiry shoulders, slung open to show off his immaculate three-piece suit. Dark eyebrows built like railway bridges overshadowed his gaunt, tired eyes. Those eyebrows might have been sharp enough to contend against the Doctor's in a duel. His hair, slicked back against his skull, made him look like a budget Bond villain.

It occurred to Charlie that the man must have been waiting behind a statue or something in order to make a dramatic entrance.

Now he had imagined that, it diminished the man's towering presence somewhat.

"Ah, there you are," the man drawled. "I want to thank you for bringing our beloved Empress back to us."

"Who's this half-wit?" the Doctor asked Charlie, quietly – but not so hushed that it was out of the man's earshot.

"That's agent Mendath," Charlie whispered back. "You know, the guy who sent us on this mission in the first place?"

The man knelt down, and revealed his perfect white teeth in an unconvincing smile as he reached out to the kitten.

"Come on, Empress," he sang. "You're safe now."

Mendath's voice set Charlie on edge. Something about the man's insincere tone was making him anxious.

"I really hope we haven't gone to all that trouble to return a missing cat," the Doctor remarked.

The kitten looked very wary. She was not that keen on approaching Mendath - she hid behind Charlie's leg instead. Her eyes were brimming with mistrust as Mendath straightened himself up again.

"Something's wrong, Doctor," Charlie muttered, "This doesn't feel right. My palms are itching."

"You've probably eaten something funny."

"No, I don't think we can trust them."

"Doctor," Mendath growled, his hoarse voice declaring that his patience had run out. "You're going to uphold your end of the bargain. Deliver the kitten to me."

"Mendath was the bad guy all along," Charlie grunted - the sudden revelation hitting him square in the chest. They had trusted this man from the start, but he was merely using them to do his dirty work.

"Well, I could have told you that," the Doctor replied.

"What? When?"

"It was obvious as soon as I looked at him," the Doctor explained. "Did I not say?"

"No!" Charlie hissed in disbelief. "How is it obvious?"

"He's wearing black."

"So are you!"

"This is _navy blue!_ "

"I resent you referring to me as a 'bad guy'," Mendath snarled, interrupting the Doctor and Charlie's gentle spar, "when I have the interests of the Empire at heart."

Charlie stepped forward, bunching his hands into fists, ignoring the armed guards in the moment.

"How can you say that when you clearly want to hurt your Empress?" Charlie yelled, to the mild surprise of agent Mendath. "How can you say you have anyone's _'best interests'_ at heart when you're planning a _murder?_ "

"That's rather presumptuous, don't you think?" Mendath replied calmly. "Although I confess, you are not mistaken in some of your beliefs. I do want this feline bureaucrat permanently removed from power. The agency's official position now is to replace the Empress. But that cannot be done until the old one has been eliminated. So hand her over to me."

"No!" Charlie spat.

Mendath held his gaze for a moment, before lazily dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

"Detain them. These two will be arrested, found guilty of treason and executed."

The agents were about to obey their orders, when something quite strange happened.

The kitten jumped in front of Charlie, and stood up on her hind legs.

The same blue glow that always signalled a sudden time travel engulfed her, orbiting her with pulsing lights.

Her figure rose up, and the tiny kitten transformed into a young woman, extravagantly robed and bejewelled.

The Empress' eyes were still blue, unchanged from the cat's form, now emphasised by her striking feline features.

"Woah…" Charlie uttered, gobsmacked.

She took a step towards agent Mendath, whose face had frozen in a mask of resentment, and hissed a single word:

 _"No."_


	9. All's Fur in Love and War (II)

Charlie was completely dumbfounded by the kitten's sudden transformation into the Empress.

He turned to the Doctor, who seemed completely unfazed, like he knew all along.

The Empress stormed towards agent Mendath, her robes spreading out behind her like an angel's wings.

"No," she snarled. Her defiant tone seemed quite unprecedented after Charlie's experience had painted her as a nervous cat.

"You have no authority in my domain. Your twisted ways will hold the power of the lost."

Mendath seemed taken aback for a moment, before he broke down in a chuckle. "What does that _mean?_ Oh, Empress Galea… _Foolish girl._ "

He gestured towards his agents, ordering them to carry out their orders.

Two of them pointed their guns at Galea, twitching the barrels to force her to follow, as Mendath turned and headed down the corridor.

His strides were stamped with purpose. Now that he had the Empress in his power, he was in control.

The two agents standing behind the Doctor and Charlie stepped forwards and grabbed their arms.

Charlie felt a pair of rigid plastic shackles snap around his wrists. However, they remained slack. He could easily escape from them if he wanted.

He caught the Doctor's eye, who looked similarly confused.

The agent behind him leaned in, and whispered in his ear. It was a woman's voice.

"Don't worry, it's us. We're going to help you save the Empress."

Charlie glanced behind him, and was astonished to see the two agents they had perhaps misjudged earlier. Mr Grumpy and Little Miss Sunshine, the couple who looked completely mismatched – like they had been unwillingly thrust together in a clichéd cop buddy movie, but had ultimately bonded over their differences. Charlie had a nagging suspicion that they were more than just colleagues.

He quickly twisted back, feigning a scowl so as not to give away their newfound alliance to Mendath and the other agents, should they have been watching.

The woman gave him a gentle push, and walked them forwards.

"Oh, no. No, no, no," the Doctor grumbled, maintaining his act of ignorance. "Don't make me walk down a really long corridor! That's an incredibly unreasonable demand!"

* * *

Within minutes, they were ushered into a room which could only be the Empress's throne room, with steps rising up to what was essentially a really fancy chair.

The floor facing the throne was divided into tiled squares, each large enough to contain one person. Charlie's assertion was confirmed when a number of seats rose up out of the floor, enough to cater for the remaining nine of them.

The chairs were ignored, however.

Mendath marched up the steps, watched by a fuming Galea. A smug grin passed across his features as he swept his cloak aside, and sat delicately in Galea's throne.

He watched his prisoners for a moment, reigning over them in his imagination.

"Empress Galea," Mendath uttered with such contempt, and such arrogance, it made Charlie feel a pang of pity for his former-kitten friend.

"You are an embarrassment to our empire," Mendath called out, as though speaking down to the one misbehaving kid in class.

"You will abdicate from your position. And you will surrender your title and your privileges."

Galea didn't rise to any of his demands. She merely glowered at him.

"If you do not, as I have very much anticipated, I will have you executed on the spot. I will take great pleasure in watching that happen."

"What's in it for you?" the Doctor suddenly asked. "What do you out want from this? You've sent us all through Earth's history looking for an Empress disguised as a cat. _Why?_ "

Mendath smiled, savouring the event unfolding as one would with a glass of expensive wine. "The death of Empress Galea will ignite a revolution, which will tear this bureaucracy down. Simply, Doctor: retribution."

"Bureaucracy?" Galea finally snapped - and Charlie couldn't blame her. "I have ruled fairly!"

"And yet there are worlds under your so-called protection, overlooked by your government while you cavort with your _friend_ ," Mendath snarled.

Galea was confused for a moment.

"I... was not aware of this. I would do everything I could to help my people."

"Your promises mean nothing," Mendath dismissed her.

"This revolution…" the Doctor grumbled. "What happens then? Hmm?"

Charlie watched the Doctor for a moment. He must have witnessed so many revolutions.

How many had ended in massacres? How many innocent, or misguided people had he seen meet their deaths during a 'glorious revolution?'

"Once you've removed the Empress from power, what then?" the Doctor continued, "What happens when it's all over?"

"A steward will be needed to rule over the galaxy."

"And you think that person is you?" the Doctor questioned, incredulous.

His wild expression; eyebrow raised, jaw dropped, would almost be comical, if it weren't for the situation they had landed themselves in.

Mendath shrugged, gesturing towards the throne he was currently lounging in. "It had crossed my mind…"

Charlie couldn't listen to this anymore.

This man had managed to contact the Doctor - how he had acquired the TARDIS phone number was worrying enough – and asked them to find and rescue a kitten which could jump through time. At the end of it all, he had deceived them. He had no intention to save his Empress. He wanted her head, and a stab at the figurative crown atop of it.

Thinking impulsively, Charlie slipped out of his cuffs, and pointed at Mendath, suddenly feeling very much like the Doctor when he always stands up to declares that _"I am the Doctor, and I will stop you."_

They were always the most exciting moments to witness, Charlie thought. It sent his heart racing to hear the power of the Doctor's words.

"You've shown no rights to this power," Charlie spat, "You're cruel, manipulative and selfish. You don't deserve _anything._ I… I stand with the Empress. While there's breath in my body, you _will not harm her_."

He stepped up to Galea's side, shoving one of the agents aside.

Out of the corner of his vision, Charlie saw the agent stumbling over, almost tripping up - taken completely unawares by Charlie's sudden display of strength.

Galea threw him a concerned, but thankful look, and Charlie's thoughts were immediately grounded.

 _Oh god_ , he thought, _what have I just done?_

Despite everything - despite the insane and frankly careless things he had done by the Doctor's side - Charlie felt a sudden surge of panic. He was so out of his depth. He was surrounded by killers. What the hell could he do, and what was going to happen to him now? How could he save the Empress, who had, until a few minutes ago, just been a kitten?

In retrospect, perhaps the Doctor should have been the one doing this - he would undoubtedly have been much better at it. Charlie had gotten rather swept up in the moment.

"That's very courageous of you, child," Mendath said, "I am… actually impressed."

The Doctor stepped up by Charlie's side, and clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Charlie's heart swelled. With a weird buzz growing on his stomach, he realised that in that small action, the Doctor had just told him how proud he was.

Mendath shot the Doctor a look of intense contempt. "Do you really think you're standing on the winning side? I never took you for a fool, Doctor."

The Doctor grinned. "Then you're an idiot. I thought you'd done your research before you hired us." He shrugged. "I'm not on a winning side. I'm not on anybody's side. Sometimes I step in to stand against injustice, and I never, ever refuse a cry for help. That's who I am. I agreed to help, but I don't much care for your cause, Mendath."

The Doctor twisted round, facing Mendath's agents, and winking at agents Mr-and-Mrs-Smith.

"Think. Where do your loyalties lie? You all need consider this very, very carefully, lest you end up looking like a pathetic gang of squabbling toddlers."

Charlie could see the darting eyes, mistrustful glares. The agents were looking at each other, suddenly unsure who they could trust. Unsure which side their colleagues would take.

They were poised, fingers twitching for a trigger to pull, daring one another to make the first move.

They were chess pieces, stranded on the tiled floor.

The king, Mendath, confident in his victory - in the inevitable checkmate - his pawns ready to strike.

Galea grabbed Charlie's sleeve. She looked extremely worried, so he shot her a reassuring smile.

Their new allies stepped forwards, guarding the Empress from the rest of their associates.

"We stand with the Empress!" they proudly proclaimed.

Mendath practically leapt out of the throne, his calm demeanour lost in a fireball of rage.

"Kill them!" he screamed, "Kill the traitors."

The first burst of lasers were unleashed; the agents opened fire on each other.

Empress Galea leapt at Charlie, transforming into her kitten form, and he caught her in his arms. He dived out of the way as a blast of energy crackled past his ear. Their combined momentum sent him crashing hard into the floor, painfully bruising his shoulder.

This was it.

That surge of adrenaline, setting his whole body on fire with sparks of electricity.

Every time he ran with the Doctor, every time he stood up for someone, every time they had been thrust into danger together, there was that rush. It was so intense. It felt amazing.

He crawled behind one of the seats risen from the floor, and saw that the Doctor had done the same.

The Empress looked up at him. Her piercing blue eyes were beautiful, but she looked so scared.

"It's gonna be okay," he assured her, "It'll be okay."

It was over very quickly.

Their friendly rogue agents were the better marksmen. They had eliminated their opponents without missing a shot.

Mendath had been crippled in the crossfire, and he lay gasping on the steps, his burning flesh seeping with his blood.

Charlie watched in horror, as the light left the man's eyes.

He hadn't wanted to see the Empress hurt, but he hadn't wanted to see that either. The failed revolution had ended in blood regardless.

"My Empress," the woman holstered her weapon and held out her hand.

Galea, shimmering into her humanoid form once again, accepted the hand, and rose to her feet.

The tall man helped Charlie off the floor, and gave him a curt nod.

"Well," the Doctor grunted, glaring at the fallen bodies in dismay, "That had better be over."

"I believe I owe you my thanks…" the Empress said to the two agents.

"Karla," the woman enlightened her, "and my partner, Darin."

Charlie frowned. The ambiguity of the nature of their relationship was still bugging him.

"What were their motives?" the Doctor queried. "He went to a lot of trouble to try and kill you. Who would be driven to such lengths?"

The Empress bowed her head. "Mendath and his agents were assigned to my protection after I received many anonymous death threats."

"We were a special division of the Space Security Service," Karla added, "we are usually assigned as security for galactically significant VIPs."

"I realise now that Mendath was behind these threats," Galea continued, "He was the villain persecuting me for a 'forbidden love'."

"The situation quickly spiralled out of control. The galaxy had entered a state of unrest. We are on the verge of a civil war. With the Empress' disappearance or her death, war would be inevitable. We could not allow that to happen."

"Hold on," interjected Charlie, "A forbidden love?"

"Yes," Galea answered softly. "Although I am betrothed to a male, my heart lies with another of my own."

"She's got a girlfriend," the Doctor explained.

"Oh! Oh right!" Charlie exclaimed, rather loudly. Realising how surprised he sounded, he quickly added: "That's fine, of course. It's nice. Good. Yep. You're gay. Not that that's a problem…"

"Of course it isn't," the Doctor stopped Charlie's blabbering. "Why should it be?"

"No, it's not."

"You clearly have some kind of problem with it."

"No, I don't."

"Well, something's the matter."

"No, it isn't."

"I empathise with your struggle," Galea spoke to him. "It can be difficult to be aligned with one's true self."

"No, _I'm_ not… never mind."

"Carry on with your story," the Doctor smiled.

"With my life in danger, and no-one around me whom could be certain held trustworthy intentions, I ran away. I hid on your world, Charlie Drake. Sol 3, or the Earth, as you call it. A quiet backwater planet, so I believed. However, I soon discovered that the indigenous species were so violent, they would passively protect me from those who would pursue me."

"But Mendath hadn't reckoned on you using a temporal displacement cannon, yes?" the Doctor guessed.

"Indeed," Galea confirmed, "It was my beloved's idea. She belongs to a line of mystics, able to manipulate time and space using specially crafted portals. We thought it to be untraceable."

"Sorry about that," the Doctor muttered.

A great roar of engines concluded Galea's story.

The Empress beamed, visibly brimming with excitement. "My spacecraft is here!"

* * *

The Doctor and Charlie accompanied Galea back down to the palace hangars, where Galea's personal transport was touching down, the ship's burners blasting them with a gust of warm air.

The ship was just as extravagant as Charlie had anticipated; a majestic beast, resembling a silver swan; graceful, aerodynamic – beautiful.

The ramp extended from the ship, and Galea's beloved hurried down to embrace her.

"Galea! The moons have circled between us too many times."

"I have missed you also."

"You are safe."

"I have Charlie Drake to thank for that," she said, turning to smile at him, which made Charlie's stomach lurch in embarrassment. "Both he and his friend, the Doctor, are brave of heart. They have been guardians to me during my self-imposed exile."

The Empress' beloved gazed at them both. Her eyes were large, almost cartoonish, and slightly milky in colour, as though she were partially blind.

"I know," she said, matching Galea's wide smile. "I foresaw the Lord of Time."

The Doctor grunted.

"They of many characters. It has been long since you showed the universe your true face."

"I thought you lot always spoke to us in riddles?" the Doctor remarked.

"She was being metaphorical," Galea quickly explained.

"Yes, well, I admit I used to look a lot more trustworthy," the Doctor uttered, with a shrug.

"I'm so glad you explained this whole thing about you being able to change what you look like," Charlie muttered. "I'd be so confused right now."

"You realise, this isn't over for you," the Doctor addressed the Empress.

"What do you recommend we do, Doctor?"

"This war… You need to make sure it stops before it starts. If there others like Mendath – and there will be – there will be conflict. The fate of the galaxy hinges on a knife edge.

An interstellar war could devastate your worlds, and many more caught up in your conflict."

"You do not wish your demons upon us," Galea's beloved uttered.

"No."

"Then how can we prevent it?" the Empress asked.

"Only you, Empress Galea, can unite your people," the Doctor asserted, "You need to show the galaxy that you are strong enough to hold everything together."

"I fear I am not…"

The Doctor chuckled. "It doesn't matter that you're not. Just prove that you _are_."

Galea nodded. "I will personally conduct a thorough assessment of all the worlds in our empire. I must find out what my government has been doing without my knowledge.

"Before you leave, Doctor and Charlie, I propose a small party in your honour. The servants aboard my ship could offer you any refreshment you desire. A glass of milk?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Galea frowned. "Perhaps not. I fear I have spent rather too long on your world."

Charlie laughed politely, and realised that the Doctor was looking at him.

He frowned. _Wait,_ was the Doctor expecting him to make a decision? Oh, hell. Should they stay, or should they go? As far as he knew, the immediate danger was over. They didn't have a moral obligation to stay. Karla and Darin seemed very capable of protecting the Empress.

"Uh… no, I'd rather not," he muttered awkwardly.

"Oh…" Galea's disappointment was evident.

"You see…" Charlie struggled to explain himself. He felt bad for refusing the offer, but he really didn't feel comfortable staying any longer. "I've never been to a party where I haven't wanted to be somewhere else…?"

"I understand, Charlie."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Come on, Charlie, let's go," the Doctor broke Charlie's awkward silence. "One last trip with the time ring before I throw it in a black hole."

He nodded at the Empress, and her beloved.

"You two. Good luck."

They turned to leave, when Galea's beloved suddenly spoke up.

"You have a question, Charlie Drake."

Charlie looked back; the expression on her features had turned very troubled.

"It burns at your very soul. Release it."

It sounded like a command, but it wasn't. Her voice was woven with empathy.

"Uh…" Charlie pretended he wasn't sure what she was talking about, but her gaze was so intense, so mesmerising, he found himself blurting it out before he could stop himself.

"Can I save him?"

She thought for a moment, but not for long – she already knew the question, and had already seen her answer.

" _Yes._ "

The Doctor was staring pointedly at him, which found rather unsettling, and he offered him a grin.

"All right," the Doctor relented, returning the grin. "Let's get back to the TARDIS."

"Where did we leave it?" Charlie asked.

"I… you know, I don't remember. It wasn't back in the 20's, was it?"

"No – no, we had it when we were in Athens."

"Oh yes! Barcelona, perhaps?"

"Wasn't it in the Seabase?"

"We went to a Seabase?"

"Yeah, don't you remember being attacked by the giant squid?"

The Doctor stared at him blankly. "No. Not recently, anyway."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head.

"Alright," the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, "I think I've got it. Hold on."

"You were pulling my leg, weren't you? Of course you remembered."

The Doctor rolled up his sleeve again, offering his arm to Charlie.

"That would be telling. And it would also ruin the surprise."

They shared a grin.

Maybe the Doctor didn't know – or maybe he did. Perhaps he was going to take them on another round of adventures before they got back to the Doctor's beloved blue box.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Charlie looked back at the Empress and her beloved, but they had already forgotten about them, lost in each other's eyes.

"Yeah…"

Charlie sighed, and pondered on the surprisingly simple answer to his question.

With a final press of a button on the Time Ring, the world fell away.

* * *

 _ **The Adventure Continues...**_

The Twelfth Doctor and Charlie return in _Nightmares_.

The Doctor decides it's time to find out what Charlie's been keeping from him. A journey into an ancient temple on a forgotten alien world throws up more challenges as the Doctor comes face to face with one of his greatest nightmares.

The end is coming for the Doctor and Charlie - when their worlds are plunged into darkness, they're going to need all the help they can get.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

 **Thanks you for reading, I hope you've enjoyed the adventure.**


End file.
